


A Martian Sends a Postcard Home

by karrenia_rune



Category: Eerie Indiana
Genre: Gen, Yuletide, possible origin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-27
Updated: 2009-12-27
Packaged: 2017-10-05 08:26:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karrenia_rune/pseuds/karrenia_rune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A night spent watching a meteor shower makes Dash-X believe that he just might be closer to solving the mystery of his own origin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Martian Sends a Postcard Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ravenbell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenbell/gifts).



Disclaimer: Eerie, Indiana is the creation of Jose Rivera and Karl Schafer as are the characters who appear here or are mentioned and belong to NBC Television and Fox; they are not mine and are only 'borrowed' for the purposes of the story. For raven bell in the Rare Fandom Yuletide Challenge. Note: the title is from a poem by Craig Raine.

 

Marshall Teller had purposefully dressed for tonight in a light t-shirt along with a hooded sweatshirt and jeans.

He had made certain to take a reading from the barometer that hung in the den only after his parents and his brother, Simon had all gone to bed; well-meaning as they were he would rather not have to answer endless questions when he much rather do this on his own.

Going up to his room he squeezed through the open window and out onto the ledge where he had left his telescope mounted and prepped for viewing. If his charts were correct tonight, and if you could manage to stay awake long enough; you were in store for a treat: for the Perceived Meteors were scheduled to make their annual appearance.

He had missed the afternoon one because he been tied up with taking his younger brother to a soccer game. But he had promised himself that he would get to view one of the closest appearance to Earth than it had in decades.

Marshall propped himself and squirmed around for a bit until he was comfortable and then reached up to the narrow length of the telescope's smooth barrel peered through it.

Local weather conditions for Eerie, Indiana at 11:30pm tonight, when Venus's path would take it into visible range had indicated clear and with minimal cloud cover. Through the lens and by upping the magnification Marshall was a witness the "stars" falling out of the sky:

"Kind of like it a Fourth of July, but in reverse," Marshall remarked to himself. And then watched as the bright streaks of light plummeted down at intervals: not straight down as he had once imagined them when he was younger, but at distinct 15 to 35 degree angle.

"I guess that's why they call 'em shooting stars."

"Shooting stars" and "falling stars" are both names that people have used for many hundreds of years to describe meteors -- but that is a incredibly misnomer, even if I do find it rather poetic. "

Marshall Teller had thought he was alone up here and the voice and the veiled insult/left-handed compliment nearly startled him off and tumbling over the edge of the ledge of his windowsill. All that saved him from a tumble of two and half stories was the outstretched arm and the hand attached to it that pulled him with a strength that always took him by surprise.

"Dash," Marshall gasped. "I wish you wouldn't do that, but thanks for the save, just the same."

"You're welcome," the other boy replied after he saw that his friend had recovered his breath.

"You know, I have not been, well, hardly the most forthcoming; have I?" Dash, under the best of circumstances was a difficult person to read by using his tone of voice, body language or even by the rather stilted and formal manner he used when speaking.

However, Marshall having befriended the orphan boy had more or less become accustomed to this and had begun to develop his own set of markers to indicate when Dash was happy, angry, or any other emotion that you cared to name. The slight hesitation, the catch in his throat, he had begun to say something that perhaps he was uncertain of, or perhaps he wanted to say but for whatever reason could not quite bring himself to say aloud.

All of these impressions flashed through Marshall Teller's mind quickly, perhaps not as quickly as the streamers of bright silver light outside of his window, but quickly enough.

"That's saying something all right," Marshal replied. "What are you doing here. I thought we were going to investigate that club tomorrow morning."

"We are, it's just that I wanted to see the meteor shower and I figured we could do so together," replied Dash.

"You know, Marshall, again I feel a strange mood come upon me earlier today," Dash began and titled his head to one side much in the manner of a bird perched on a post, and then squaring his shoulders and catching Marshall's gaze with his own intent pale-eyed stare said: "I have not been entirely truthful when I said I only came here to watch the meteor shower."

"Look, it's cool. If you don't want to say it, don't say it."

"You have been a good friend and this must be made clear between us," Dash replied.

"Watching the stars, somehow and in someway, reminds me that perhaps that is where I from…somewhere out there."

Dash suddenly stood up and strode over to the open window and leaned out and then with an outstretched arm pointed up to a patch of the evening sky where the brightest star in the constellation known as the Orion the Hunter could be seen glimmering in amongst the thousands and thousands of its fellows in the inky black of the night sky. "Up there." was all he said.

Marshall could not bring himself to say anything, or at least anything coherent. Of course, in the time that they had known each other, and then become friends the subject of Dash-X or as he was known around town, the Boy with the Grey Hair, his origin would always be a mystery, and he had believed that were their roles reserved, he too would want to know where he had come from… but still.. Marshall shook his head and then stood up and walked over to stand beside his friend. "Which one?" he asked.

"Rigel or perhaps the one called Betelgeuse," I thought I had it there for a second; the sensation that I could remember where I came from.." Dash then shook his head as if to rid himself of the inevitable cobwebs and the distant look in his pale eyes faded and he smiled. "I guess where we came from is not nearly as important as we're going, is it?"

"Yeah. When you're right' You're right." Marshall sighed and then said: " Tomorrow, I have an algebra exam and if I fail this one, my folks will have my hide."

"Then it would best to turn in." Dash offered a smile small smile and then turned around and walked toward the door that led out into the hallway but stopped short, half in and half out of the doorway before turning his head around and added. "Good night, Marshall."

"Good night, Dash."

**Author's Note:**

> for yuletide madness, 2009


End file.
